Page 89 of Pack End Game

A cream-colored blanket on the bottom shelf along the back wall draws my eye. There’s a lumpiness to it, unlike the other perfectly folded blankets.

I dig underneath and find what I’m looking for.

When I turn back toward the bed, I see Mia moving away from Zak toward Spencer, whose back is now up against the headboard. She climbs onto his lap.

However, when she glances over and sees what’s cradled protectively in my arms, she freezes in place. Her head tilts to one side, and her eyes narrow. Examining the offering I’m about to make at the altar of our omega.

I smile with bountiful pride. This just feels right, and I know she’s going to love it. “Gentlemen. Omega.” I put on my best announcer voice because this moment deserves a proper introduction. “Simon has entered the building.”

Triumphantly, I hold up Simon’s claws. Lifting them high into the air in a proper presentation. A respectful display. The ultimate offering.

Both alphas groan.

I pause..

Not the reaction I was anticipating, but okay. They’re probably just overwhelmed by my brilliance and clearly disappointed in themselves for not thinking of this themselves. Obviously, Simon has a special place in our first heat as a pack.

“Right?” I say, encouraged, stepping closer. “There’s something so correct about including him. He’s been with us this whole time; his viral camera-stealing stunt is basically the whole reason we’re all here. He deserves to be included.”

Our omega’s next reaction shocks me.

Mia hisses.

Her whole body tenses, eyes locking onto the claws as if they’re offensive.

I freeze mid-step.

I give the claws a small, helpful shake, giving her another chance to see what I’m holding. She must have thought they were something else. Something offensive. But I’d never bring anything offensive into her nest.

“Look,” I say. “Simon’s claws. I know you said no to the whole suit, but it’d be wrong not to have at least a piece of him here. Well, both claws, so two pieces.”

She makes another low, displeased noise, nose wrinkling as if I offered her hot garbage instead of the manicured claws of my beloved Simon.

I blink at her.

Then at the claws.

Then back at her.

I look down at the claws again.

They look back at me. Innocent. Supportive. Misunderstood.

“…I’m so sorry,” I whisper to them, genuinely. “You don’t deserve this complete lack of welcome.”

Zak drops face-first on the bed, making a choked sound that turns into a muffled laugh against the sheets. Spencer exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose the way he does when he’s trying to remember not to be mad about how awesome my ideas are. He wraps his free arm around Mia and draws her closer to his chest. Her legs rest on either side of his thighs, straddling him.

She cuddles into his chest, refusing to even look at the claws any longer.

Okay. Wow.

Zak’s laughter continues, growing so big that I shoot him a glare even though he can’t see it. Spencer coughs to try to cover up a small laugh of his own, so I glare at him, too.

“This is a safe space,” I remind them. “For all of us.”

Zak looks up from the bed and says, “Not for Simon,” in between his attempts to catch his breath.

Rude.